Remedial History Lessons on a Tuesday
by atlee
Summary: Sarah Walker wasn't really one for schoolwork. But what can you do when you lose your memory? A one-shot shot into three pieces .
1. Chapter 1

_I suck._

_That is the most important thing I have to say. I've been sitting on this one for a while, at least in my head. For various reasons, I hadn't managed to get it onto paper until, what, four months after the show ended? So, this is probably the 3,629__th__ post-finale story to be written (open-ended finales – bad for closure, great for fanfiction!) Still, I think (or at least hope) that this one is a bit different from the other 3,628._

_Also, I don't own "Chuck" much like I don't own any other off-the-air show such as, say, "Sanford and Son," "Airwolf," "My Mother the Car," or "Caroline in the City."* If I did, I'd probably be tempted to combine them all, and write a story about Sarah Walker, junkyard resident, who pilots a helicopter that contains the soul of her deceased father, with every flight spent talking about how lame "Caroline in the City" was._

_Also, this was a one-shot but I figured it worked better split into three pieces. And despite the title, there isn't any continuity storyline-wise with the "Saturday", "Sunday" "Monday" ones I've previously done. Though I suppose they are a bit similar thematically, if you're into that kind of thing.  
_

_So anyway, on to the story.  
_

_* I'm not comparing any of these shows to "Chuck."_

* * *

**Remedial History Lessons on a Tuesday**

**Part 1_  
_**

"…So, if the race car over here is Freddie Mac, the iron is Fannie Mae, and the thimble is the banker, and you just used a subprime mortgage to buy your house on St. Charles Place. Oh shoot, where did that house go?"

Sarah Walker watched her tutor whirl around and frantically search for the small green house on the floor, before finally discovering the source of her financial plight below the coffee table. She flashed him a quick smile of encouragement, figuring that was the best way to get the lesson over with as soon as possible.

She knew she should probably be more appreciative. Morgan Grimes, just like everyone else that seemed to be focused on her every move these days, meant well. And she probably needed the help. But she wasn't exactly comfortable with all of these complete strangers working their way into, and trying to fix, her life.

Well, she supposed they weren't complete strangers. She'd picked up the basic facts about Morgan from the mission logs she'd recorded in her past life. Granted, those logs were old enough that the current version didn't entirely resemble the Morgan from the start of the mission. For one thing, based on her original intel, it seemed practically impossible that he wasn't single. But, she wasn't entirely surprised that he had made various efforts to "fix" her, any more than she was surprised by Eleanor Bartowski's advice-heavy phone calls from Chicago, or Devon Woodcomb's frequent up-with-people aphorisms. In fact, everybody seemed anxious to help. Or almost everyone, since her husband's attempts had become rarer and rarer.

Ah, her husband. Out of all of the problems caused by her recent memory loss, the fact that her brain had completely erased the existence of a man that she had fallen in love with was the biggest. There was plenty of tangible evidence of their relationship. She'd watched the logs so often that she'd practically memorized every heartfelt statement that she'd apparently made about Chuck. She'd even talked to people she did remember, and had heard her mother's (happy) and Carina's (bemused but accepting) declarations that she did, in fact, love him.

And, to be honest, she had certainly felt something when he'd kissed her.

But still, no memories had returned, which was why she was now being subjected to the worst imaginable economics lecture.

"Hmm, I think it's cracked," Morgan's return from underneath the table interrupted Sarah's thoughts. He placed the condemned house off to the side, and studied the board intently. "Well, let's say you get a mortgage on…" he reached into the game box, "this little doggie here."

"Uh, Morgan, maybe you should skip the recession for now." Sarah looked up to see Alex, Casey's surprisingly pretty daughter, walk into the room. Even more surprisingly to Sarah, Alex was also Morgan's girlfriend. She was sure that there were some lost memories floating around out there that could make sense of their relationship, and they would be almost as welcome as those involving her own with Chuck. Alex almost certainly must be very patient, and the sympathetic smile she flashed Sarah seemed to bear this out.

"Yeah, that's a good idea, Babe," Morgan replied. "Maybe we should move on to the book."

Sarah glanced over at the tome seated on the table just to her side. It was about the size of a phonebook, which was quite impressive given that Morgan had seemingly prepared it all himself. Deciding it was better to get this lesson over with, she reached over to pick it up, glancing briefly at the handwritten title on the front: "Sarah Walker's Guide to Everything Important that Happened in the Years 2007-2012."

Underneath, in slightly smaller letters, the words, "Volume 1" were ominously scribbled.

* * *

"So, have you had a chance to peruse the book yet?" Morgan asked.

"Well, uh, I've been a bit busy." That was a lie. Shortly after Quinn's death, the CIA had informed her in no certain terms that an Agent with no memory of the last five years was not an Agent they wanted in the field. She'd always been devoted to the job, so the sudden appearance of boundless leisure time had been uncomfortable. She'd spent much of her time learning as much as she could about her recent past, but nothing dented the black area in her head where her memories had been.

Eventually, she'd found herself spending more and more time with Chuck. At first, she'd reached out to him out of guilt. Guilt over how she'd hurt him, both emotionally and physically. After that, she stayed because she'd realized that he was her best hope of getting better. Nobody had spent more time with her the last few years than Chuck Bartowski had. And he had been helpful, often painfully so. Eventually, things seemed to change though. They still spent time together, but he no longer seemed to be urgently trying to bring back her memories. Instead, they'd spent their time watching television, visiting the Santa Monica pier, and even playing the occasional game of miniature golf. Chuck was fun to be around, and she had begun to feel something unusual.

Comfortable.

And it meant that she hadn't had time to peruse Morgan's literary masterpiece. "You mean you haven't looked at it?" he protested.

"Morgan," Alex interrupted, "Sarah's had a lot on her mind."

"Yeah," Morgan sighed in response to his girlfriend's comment, "but still, how's she going to get better if she doesn't work at it? I mean, just because Chuck's given up, doesn't mean I should."

Sarah felt the strange need to defend her husband, but she decided to stay silent. While she did appreciate the new "no pressure" Chuck Bartowski, she sometimes wondered why the old one had left.

"Morgan, can we talk for a bit?" Alex asked, and motioned for her boyfriend to follow her into the other room. They began speaking in hushed tones, which would be more effective if Sarah hadn't been a trained spy, with excellent hearing.

"Don't you think you should give Sarah a break?" Alex whispered. "Clearly, she's tired of your interference."

"Well, I have to do something! Haven't you seen how hard all of this has been on Chuck?"

Sarah had wondered how much of the brave face Chuck had recently adopted has been an act. She guessed that if she still had had the five years of experience with all things Chuck she'd recently lost, the answer would have been a lot clearer. She fought back the brief pang of guilt she felt, and continued to listen.

"I know, Morgan, I know. It's just that, I don't think it's helping. Not the Monopoly, not the books, not any of the things you've tried before."

"Hey, everything I've done has been carefully thought out and planned."

"Even the smells?" Sarah could practically hear the girl roll her eyes.

"Hey, Operation Olfaction was based on sound science! Out of all of the senses, memory is most closely linked with scent. And look at the evidence. She remembered stuff when she was inside a Weinerlicious, and when she was around Jeff and Lester. In both cases, very pungent smells."

Sarah had to admit there was a strange logic there. But the day spent sniffing at boxes filled with cold sizzling shrimp, bath soap from a hotel in Barstow, and what she'd been told was the cheap vinyl of Nerd Herder upholstery, had been neither productive nor particularly pleasant.

"Look, just let me try this one more time," she heard Morgan hiss. "I have a feeling it might work better. It's not trying to force her memory to come back; this is a way to replace what she lost. Trust me, Alex. I know what she's going through. I lost some memories, too, remember. And having something that helps guide her about what she's missing will be a big help."

"Alright, alright. Just try not to piss her off. I'd rather not have to fight her off to save you." Sarah could hear the affection in the girl's voice, and as strange as it seemed, found it to be touching.

A minute later, Morgan re-appeared, a confident smile on his face. Sarah made a show of perusing the book.

"Ok, let's see. How about we start on page 37."


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**

As flowcharts go, she supposed it was a pretty good one. It certainly was detailed. There were several pictures, all connected via criss-crossed arrows of various thicknesses. All seemed to revolve around the one picture in the middle. She wondered if Chuck would have minded his best friend choosing such an old picture of him. It looked to Sarah like it had been cut out of a photo ID. As she studied the picture, Chuck's hair gave her a strange craving for animal crackers.

As she looked at the picture of her husband, she thought back to the last few days that they'd spent together. After much convincing, she'd moved out of the hotel, and was now staying in Chuck's… ok, their…house, in the guest bedroom. Chuck was an amusing roommate, but things were definitely a bit awkward. She didn't know how she fit in, and she guessed that Chuck didn't either. Sure, they would occasionally kiss, and she'd found herself wishing things would go a bit further once or twice.

But that was probably the restlessness. Too much time without a mission.

She'd considered leaving several times. Carina had invited her to join her on her current mission in Greece, though Sarah got the impression that she hoped that the invitation would be refused. She hadn't replied either way yet, figuring it would be a good idea to keep her options open.

"So, this should give you a general idea of how people fit in around here," Morgan brought her attention back to the present. He reached over and pointed at the center of the page. "See these red arrows. They depict family."

Sarah recognized the picture of Chuck's sister off to the right, and the picture of Morgan to the left. She smiled briefly. "You're family?"

"Hey, friendship is a bond thicker than blood. Now, you recognize her, right?"

Sarah nodded. She'd met Mary Bartowski during the last mission, and had spent a little time with her more recently. She'd enjoyed Mary's tales of her days as a spy, and tried to ignore the recurring hints about how much she'd given up in order to be one. She looked at the man pictured next to her. "And him?"

"That," Morgan responded, "is Stephen J. Bartowski. Chuck's Dad."

"Orion."

"Right, inventor of all things Intersecty. That's why there's a little brain sticker next to him."

"Ah." She'd been wondering about that, as there were a few of them interspersed throughout the page. She noticed one next to the oddly familiar picture next to Orion's. "Um, Morgan, why is there a picture of Timothy Dalton here?"

"Oh, that's supposed to be Alexei Volkoff. I didn't have a picture of him, what with the whole mysterious villain thing and all, so I substituted that one. I always thought they kind of looked similar."

Sarah's mission logs had gotten sparser the last couple of years, so she only had a vague acquaintance with the details on Volkoff. But she'd known of him, and his fearsome reputation, for years. "So why does he have a brain next to him?"

"Well, it turned out he was actually this geeky British scientist whose name I forget. He was the first test subject for the Intersect. He was also the first person to have his brain broken by the Intersect. He's like our Godfather."

"Forefather!" Alex's voice rang from the kitchen.

"I see. And next to him," Sarah squinted, "there's a stick figure in a dress?"

"Yeah, I didn't have a picture of her either," Morgan admitted, "and I couldn't figure out who she looked like. That's Alexei's daughter, Vivian Volkoff."

"And why is she seated on a cow?"

"That's a horse," Morgan corrected, sounding slightly offended. "She's an egalitarian."

"Huh?"

"You know, someone who rides horses."

"Equestrian!" Alex yelled again.

"Right. Whatever. Anyway, she was kind of evil too, and even though Chuck tried to help her, she almost killed you. Until she had a change of heart, and gave you all of her money, which got this guy over here mad."

Sarah managed to follow Morgan's pointing finger, but not his explanation, so she looked at the next stick figure. "Frankenstein?"

"Decker. He had a big forehead."

"Ah." Sarah decided she'd had enough of this page, and moved on to next one. This time there was only one picture. "Bryce."

"Bryce Larkin. Chuck's friend, who was kind of an ass, who turned out to not be his friend, but was actually a spy who was trying to protect him, but then turned out to be a traitor who wasn't really a traitor but was undercover, but was still kind of an ass. And then he died. I, uh, wasn't sure how I was supposed to show all that with arrows, so I just gave him his own page."

Sarah wasn't sure if Morgan has purposely left out one other pertinent detail about Bryce. It was strange. Even though their relationship, in her mind, had never really ended, she didn't really miss him. She'd been sad when she'd heard he'd died, but she'd found herself having trouble picturing his face. At least one thing had been accomplished by the book so far.

Morgan gave her a sympathetic look. "Maybe we should skip ahead a bit."

* * *

"Are these supposed to be me?"

Needless to say, a future in the caricature artist industry was not in Morgan's future. If it weren't for the U-shaped sets of pigtails surrounding the crudely drawn faces surrounding the page in front of her, she wouldn't have even guessed they were female. And she wouldn't have realized they were supposed to be her if it hadn't been the title at the top of the page: "A Guide to People Sarah Walker Hates."

"Oh," Sarah's instructor replied somewhat sheepishly. "I got that idea from the menu at the local Kung-Fu Palace. They use them to show how spicy each dish is. I figured I could use the idea to show you how much you hate all of these people." Seeing her expression, Morgan paled slightly. "Hey, art isn't really my forte."

Sarah decided it was best to move on, and shifted her attention from the unflattering portraits to the various photographs they surrounded. If she was interpreting the icons right, there were three sets of people she hated above everyone else. She quickly turned her attention away from the first one – whatever Morgan's issues with the Black Eyed Peas were, it didn't seem relevant to her own predicament. The other two pictures, however, seemed to be more significant. She stared at them, hoping for a burst of recognition, but nothing happened. Giving up, she pointed to the first one. "All right, who is he?"

From the expression on his face, Sarah would have guess that Morgan had just swallowed rancid milk. "That," he replied, "is Daniel Shaw."

"Ah." Shaw's betrayal had been explained in detail on Sarah's old Mission logs. "He's younger than I would have thought."

"He's a lot older in douche years. Trust me, you hate him, after what he did to the team, and you."

"Well, if I held grudges over everybody that tried to kill me…"

"Oh, he did more than that. He sold you out over a petty grudge, practically tore you and Chuck apart, and dumped you for no good reason."

"Wait. We dated?" The Mission Logs had left that part out. It seemed like a strange oversight on her part.

"Oh, um, there's no need for you to remember that, so maybe we should move on." Morgan quickly shoved a convenient napkin over the picture of Shaw and pointed to the next one. "This one's a real dandy. Jill Roberts."

Another name from the Log. "Fulcrum Agent. Currently on the lam, whereabouts unknown."

"Right," Morgan agreed. "Also Chuck's ex-girlfriend, who weaseled her way between the two of you."

Sarah had known that as well, as her past self had expressed some displeasure in the mission logs. "I know. But I think that her betraying the country should be the main focus, rather than any jealousy I might have felt."

"She also tried to kill you. Probably would have, except Chuck betrayed her to save you." Morgan described the details, which was something that hadn't been in the mission log. She had to admit, she was somewhat impressed. Even though she'd seen him in action when they defused the bomb and saved General Beckman, she still had been thinking of him as the gun-shy pseudo-agent that needed an Intersect to survive the simplest of missions. Granted, one who was brave, and with an easygoing charm she couldn't quite break free of. But still, she hadn't fully dismissed either Quinn's false portrayal of him, or his occasionally awkward actions.

And it did make her impression of Jill Roberts sink to subterranean depths.

But this wasn't helping her bring her memories back. In fact, the afternoon cram session as a whole hadn't really done her any good. While the information in Morgan's book was detailed, it wasn't exactly helpful. There had been several pages on "Advances in Smartphones," not to mention an overly-detailed section on something called "Angry Birds." Politics, clearly not Morgan's area of expertise, was barely mentioned, and world events generally were given only a cursory discussion.

Sarah did have to admit, though, that the more personal information was probably the most useful, and the most interesting to her. She'd paid more attention to the "10 Times that Chuck Bartowski saved the Day without Using the Intersect" than anything else they'd covered in the book. Some of the information had been in her mission logs, but others hadn't been. Knowing that Chuck had managed to bluff his way out of life-threatening situations with video game specs, managed to stop a revolution by reconciling a marriage, tricked a crooked sheik into giving freezing his own accounts, single-handedly identified a murderer – actually two murderers, defused countless bombs, or the many times we was willing to sacrifice himself for his family and friends made Sarah appreciate who he was. Clearly, her asset had developed into a very good agent; much more than when she had first met him…the second time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3**

Sarah could feel her eyes were beginning to glaze over when a knock on the door snatched her attention away from the list of 'Top 10 Ugliest Evil Henchman.' She fought aside her initial impulse to retrieve her favorite knife, but still cautiously kept one eye on the foyer. A moment later, Chuck's head popped inside.

"Hey guys, you haven't seen Sarah around, have you? I was just…" He paused when he saw his wife seated there. He went over to her, his eyebrows rising briefly when he saw the giant book on the table, casting its shadow on the room.

"What's going on, Chuck?" Morgan asked. "We were just trying to help Sarah…"

"And I appreciate it, Buddy. But we'll probably have to cut it short." Chuck turned to Sarah. "General Beckman called. She has something she needs us to meet with her about."

"General Becks called?" Morgan jumped out of his seat. "Awesome! I've been meaning to catch up with her."

"Uh, sorry. She only wanted to talk to Sarah."

Morgan sighed with brief disappointment, then turned to Sarah. "We can pick this up tomorrow. I have a few more pages that I want to add, anyway."

Sarah had to bite her lip to stop the groan working its way up her throat.

* * *

"So what does the General want?" Sarah asked once they'd returned to Chuck's…their house.

"Actually, she just had a few forms you need to sign. But I figured you could use some rescuing," Chuck replied, nodding to the magnum opus currently in her arms. "Sorry about that."

"Well, parts of it reminded me of a very long night of surveillance sitting in a cold truck in Helsinki," Sarah replied as she dropped the book onto Chuck's…their kitchen table. Sitting down, she added, "But Morgan has a…strange charm about him, so I guess it wasn't too bad. And some of the subject material _was_ rather interesting."

Sarah thought she saw Chuck flush slightly. "He just wants to help, and he tends to get a bit eager." He picked up the book and leafed through for a minute. "But I'd take his words of wisdom with a grain of salt."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, for one thing, 'The Dark Knight' did not win Best Picture. And his description of the 'Lost' finale is way off."

"Part of his own memory loss?"

"Wishful thinking, probably."

"Well, it's not like I didn't do my own research once I realized what had happened to me," Sarah pointed out. "It's kind of tough not knowing who the President is."

"Well, Morgan put that in here at least," Chuck commented, "though he didn't spell the name right." He looked up. "I guess I should have been more helpful. Clearly, losing your memory affected more than just our relationship."

"Yeah, about that," Sarah said, "Morgan certainly kept working us into his history lessons, but you haven't been quite as aggressive with your memory jogs lately."

"Jogging's never been my thing," Chuck said, flashing a goofy smile that didn't bother Sarah as much as she felt it should. "But you know, I've been thinking a lot about it, and I realized that it's not my place."

Sarah was surprised. Based on everything she'd learned about him from her recent experience and the earlier experiences she'd recorded in her mission logs, Chuck always seemed to go out of his way to help people – whether it was asked for or not. "Not your place? Isn't that kind of what married people do?" It seemed like it would be, though she had to admit her own knowledge of marriage was mainly limited to her parents' failed one.

"In part, it is. But I can't force you to be who I want you to be. It's not fair, and it won't work. I don't believe that one person can change another."

Sarah was surprised again. "Then are you saying that I didn't change who you were when I was your handler?"

Chuck considered the question. "Would it make you mad if I said no?" When Sarah merely shrugged, he said, "I'm not saying you weren't part of it. You were a _huge_ part of it. But I think that I've always been who I am, even if I didn't know who that person was when we first met. Actually, you used to tell me all the time. You'd say I always had it in me to be the hero. And eventually I got to the point where I know that you were right. And let's face it, I've also always had it in me to be the bumbling fool. Still do. Hey, you could at least have the courtesy to disagree!"

"Sorry," Sarah apologized. "Politeness isn't my thing."

"Yeah it is, actually. Sarah, you are very loving and caring, and as my still-breathing best friend can attest, you are very patient and kind. And you are also a very bad-ass spy who can kill a man 16 different ways with a drinking straw and a stalk of cauliflower."

"Is that using them both together, or separately?" Sarah smiled.

"Dealer's choice."

"Ok then, it's actually 27 with the cauliflower, and 19 with the straw. 24 if it's the kind that bends."

Chuck paled slightly, much to Sarah's amusement. "My point is, while you may not be exactly the same person as you were a month ago, it's not because of me. The last five years have been your own journey. And well, you can take it again, if you want to. Along the way, we can make new memories. Maybe even better ones. And skip over a few of the roadblocks from before."

"But it's my decision."

"Yup, it is."

And there was the crux of it. Did she want to stay, to find this person she had apparently become, or go on a completely different journey? One direction that seemingly led to what she had always assumed she didn't want, and another that led to what she had always thought was inevitable. It was still an option, even if the CIA didn't seem to want her. She could join Carina in Greece (though, according to page 79 of Morgan's book, that might not be the best place to go these days). Or she could always latch on with Casey, who clearly seemed to respect her as an agent. It would be fun. All of the action and danger she'd always craved, fighting to protect the world, even if she didn't entirely recognize it right now.

But that would mean leaving her husband. Granted, she didn't remember him becoming her husband, but clearly there was something there. There were the voluminous recordings of her stating how she felt for him. Not to mention the not infrequent times that she'd found herself thinking about him during the last few days.

And it wasn't just Chuck. There were the family and friends she'd seemed to have made. A loving if occasionally meddlesome sister-in-law. The older partner, who'd be there for her, whether she followed him across the globe or not. Even the slightly annoying friend who was willing to take the time to write a 500-page tome to help her out.

"And then where do you fit in?" Sarah asked.

"Well, I'm always here to help. Like I said, it's your journey, but I can always be your tour guide."

An old phrase nudged its way into her head. "Not my baggage handler?"

Chuck looked at her for a moment, his mouth agape. "Why did you say that?"

Sarah shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted. "It kind of just popped in there. Something from an old movie, I think."

Chuck didn't say anything for a few moments. Finally, he smiled. "Yeah, I think I saw that movie too. It was a good one." They sat there quietly for a moment, before Chuck finally added, "So, I guess it's you're decision, Sarah."

In the end, Sarah was surprised at how easy the decision was.

"Ok, I'm in."

"Great!" Chuck stood up. "I think I'll start making dinner. You know, there are some good things about having amnesia."

"Like what?"

"Well, you're going to get the chance to taste my chicken pepperoni for the first time again."

Sarah smiled. "Ok. I think I'll stay in the living room while you cook. Do a little light reading." Impulsively, she stood up and hugged Chuck.

She sat down on the living room couch, lugging Morgan's book with her. She turned over to a page she skimmed earlier. At the top, in big black letters, it said, "Top Reasons Why Sarah Walker Loves Chuck Bartowski." She studied the page with interest, thinking that pretty soon, she might even be ready to write in a new one.

**End**

* * *

_So I suppose you could call this, "An Excess of Exes," and "Workplace Interruptions on a Monday" my 'Morgan as Unreliable Narrator' trilogy. It probably means I turn to the same bag of tricks too much, but the unreliable narrator thing is a lot of fun to write. I highly recommend it._

_Please let me know what you thought. I always appreciate reviews!_


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